adventures + observations in food + life

Tag Archives: appreciation

It’s been two and a half years since the intro guitar class I took at the Princeton Adult School, and I’m thinking back now with fond memories of the first class.

I had signed up for “Folk and Popular Guitar 1,” which went for about an hour on Tuesday nights and which was immediately followed by “Folk and Popular Guitar 2,” which also went for an hour. The level 1 class was at or near capacity, while the level 2 class apparently only had a few people. The same person was also teaching them both, the wonderful and energetic, CM (I’ll use her initials).

Towards the end of the first class, she had us take turns introducing ourselves, saying why we were taking the class and if we had ever played before. At one point, when someone would say they had played in the past, she started to respnd by saying enthusiastically, “You’re promoted!”

Even though I had only tried playing briefly (for a month or so) many years ago, I got the same response when it got to my turn.

“Have you ever played a chord before?”

“Yeah, but it was a long time ago…”

“You’re promoted!”

I decided to stay for the level 2 class that followed that night, and though the pace seemed a little fast for me, I figured I would go with it. So I switched. I’d be learning more, and fewer people in the class would mean more attention from the teacher.

Both of these things turned out to be true, as did the following experience: the experience of me getting frustrated many times when I wasn’t picking something up right away, like a new strumming pattern, a new chord progression, or whatever else. I was like, “Why can’t I do this? Why can’t I do it right away? Why can’t I keep up? I should be good at this immediately and never have to struggle or get frustrated or make any mistakes along the way in order to learn and get better!”

I know – it’s the height of unreasonableness to expect something for nothing.

I did keep at it though, and I kept learning and improving with each class and with the practicing between the classes. I’ve kept it going since then too, as I’ve continued to play, practice, write songs, and let go a little. I wouldn’t say irrational thoughts are completely gone, but the wall of perfection isn’t quite as high as it used to be.

The point is to relax, trust yourself and where you’re at, and keep going. Keep working at it, and see what happens. It’s hard to imagine my life today without all the things that playing guitar, playing with words, and being musically creative bring.

I wrote this song last fall, but it’s a spring song, and here we are still in spring. I used to hate listening to the sound of my recorded voice, but listening to this song makes me smile. It also makes me want to sing along, which I will admit I have done several times.

I love how it feels to sing it, and now also, how it feels to read the words from top to bottom with the melody in my mind.

Thank you too, CM, for the strumming start, and thank you to the many others who’ve provided inspiration along the way.

Butterflies in the wind,
See how they move,
Floating here and there,
Dancing as they choose –
Moving higher
Spreading wider
Flapping happy and
Smiling all around and,
Searching meadows and
Sending hellos and
Loving clovers and
Going flower by flower and

Can you see it here,
Can you leave the ground,
It’s all around us here

Children laughing in the rain,
Skipping on their way,
Puddles without umbrellas
Favorite kind of day –
Bounding on and
Showers of fun and
Loving jumping and
Running all around and,
Telling secrets and
Making keepsakes and
Loving feeling and
Greeting everyone and

Can you see it here,
Can you hear the sounds,
They’re all around us here

Playing music in the park,
Singing lullabies,
Every day a melody
Of seasons passing by –
There’s winter warming and
Flowers forming and
Spring on tour and
More there to come and,
Weather wither and
Brother sister and
Loving whispers and
Kisses every day and

Can you see it here,
Can you hear the sounds,
They’re all around us here

And summertime and whipoorwills and
Ice cream days and evening thrills and
As the days come fanciful and
Say ‘Let’s go’ all whimsical,
The winds are full and filling sails all true,
Wishes real and coming back to you

The winds are full and filling sails all true,
Wishes real and coming back to you,
Children and all their kisses too,
Wishes real and coming back to you –
Wishes real and coming back to you

When I woke up that Friday morning, my fourth day in Orlando, I knew I had one main choice to make for the day: whether to go back to Wekiwa Springs State Park and go kayaking for most of the day (as I originally thought I would do – Part 1) or stay in the city and relax.

I wanted to do both, but thinking of all I’d done on Thursday (Part II) and what I most wanted out of Friday, I chose the latter.

The decision was actually easier than I thought, and my feeling that it was the right decision was confirmed during my morning run, an easy 35-minutes around town.

Yes, this is what I want to be doing, I thought as I jogged – taking it easy, not rushing, and letting come what may. What if I didn’t worry and just did that? Yes, let’s go.

About ten minutes into the run, I got to the Orlando Urban Trail, a paved running and biking trail similar to the Cady Way Trail that I’d been on two days earlier.

I couldn’t believe it, but there it was, in Orlando – the Dinky Line!

This was remarkable because in Princeton we have the Dinky too! Technically it’s the Princeton Shuttle, a 2.9-mile NJ Transit commuter rail line that connects Princeton and Princeton Junction (where you can then go north to New York, or south to Trenton and Philly). To anyone who’s local, it’s the Dinky. I promised myself I’d come back later and get a picture (which I did the next day).

With a Dinky-inspired smile, I continued on my run, passing through Lake Eola Park, Thornton Park, and then Mills 50 on my way back to my Airbnb. Along the way, I found myself smiling again when I happened upon another reminder of home.

Yes, in the Mills 50 neighborhood in Orlando, at the intersection of art and utility boxes, there’s an orange Einstein.

It’s good to get away and leave home for a fresh perspective. And it’s also good, when you’re away and relaxed, to be reminded of home. I was running at the pace of Dave, feeling a greater sense of self and doing what I wanted. And then, without trying, I found the Dinky and Einstein. I was away from home, yet I was at home at the same time. What if I brought some of this home back with me?

Part of my run also went down Shine Avenue. Yes, Orlando, full of great signs 🙂

One of my reasons for dedicating the day, Friday, to relaxing and local exploring was that I was doing the Best Damn Race Orlando Half Marathon the next day. I didn’t want to rush when picking up my race packet, and staying local meant I could also take advantage of the kitchen in the Airbnb to cook my favorite pre-long-race meal.

For a while, this pre-race meal (whenever possible) has been homemade tomato sauce and pasta. And that’s what I made. Crushed tomatoes, garlic, onions (the ones that I’d picked the day before at the farm!), olive oil, salt, and pepper. The leftovers were also good the next day after the race, and on the plane ride home on Sunday.

I also sauteed some spinach and cut some carrots, because that’s what I do

After dinner, I wrapped up my Friday by going to an improv show at SAK Comedy Lab in downtown Orlando. I’d heard about SAK from someone at Tasty Tuesdays, and having done improv myself recently with some friends at home and knowing how hard/easy/stressful/freeing/awesome it can be to do – you should try it! if you want to – I was looking forward to seeing a live show.

The show was great, and on top of that there was also the wall-art with the improv of life reminders.

I had initially stopped by SAK in the afternoon to buy a ticket. Seeing no one at front desk, I continued on in and headed up the stairs. While looking at the Improv is Life wisdom-inspiration murals, I ran into the person, Dale, who would be hosting the show that night. He gave me the details on the tickets (can reserve them online) and the art (one of the performers, who is also a visual artist, designed everything).

Sometimes at work in the morning, I’ll write daily intention reminders to myself on a yellow post-it. I didn’t realize it at the time, but taking these pictures at SAK was like doing the same thing, on a larger scale.

I invite you to click, expand, and pan through the murals and see what thoughts and ideas resonate with you. And to see an improv show, and to try it too.

The words in these pictures
And my words and pictures
Are for everyone,
Friends old and new and not yet known.
They’re there for me
And there for you,
Feelings felt and
Feelings shown

For my last day in Orlando, part one was doing the half marathon. When I had originally signed up for it, I thought it would be my weekly long run as part of training for a spring marathon. I never found the right marathon motivation though, so I never signed up for one. This is also to say that had there been any doubt, my goal for the Best Damn Race Orlando Half Marathon was at this point definitely to have it mirror my goal for the trip as a whole – to move myself in the direction I wanted to go in, relax and enjoy it, and welcome the outcome and whatever comes.

I found and welcomed the sunrise on my way to the start.

I also found my lucky numbers, 313.
No better a birthday, or combination of primes, has the world known. I may be biased though.

The route took us through some familiar neighborhoods and streets, including Shine Ave. There might have been delays for the cars that morning, but I wasn’t feeling any because, me, I wasn’t in a rush. I’ll race a race once in a while, but more often lately what I’ve been doing is appreciating the beauty of running at the pace that feels right for the day. I didn’t want to run as hard as possible and injure myself, so I didn’t. And I wanted to run at a more relaxed pace and enjoy it, so I did. It felt great, and I ran a few fun, faster miles towards the end. And I finished and lived to run another day.

Repping PRC in ORD

The wings, they spin

I only had one of these recovery drinks. You saw all the sweat in that picture of me running, right?

A few days later when I looked at the results again, I was like, Wait a second, wow!
My gun time was 1:36:36.9, which meant that If I had kept running and were able to keep the same pace for a full marathon (that is, if I kept training and were then able to keep running the same pace), my final time would be 3:13:13! I’d found my numbers again, and again without trying.

Back to my last day in Orlando, post-half marathon, I had one final decision to make: to DRIP or not to DRIP.

At the bar a few days earlier, I had heard about what sounded like an awesome performing-arts show, DRIP. Imagine dancers moving, choreographed paint and water and sand flying, colored lights moving, a live rock band playing music, everything happening in a dark and intimate warehouse bar setting, and the audience standing and watching on the edges of the performance space and becoming an increasingly painted and wet participant. And picture the audience coming early to get a drink and paint each other and hang out, and then doing more of the same afterwards.

It sounded great, and I thought, “I should go to that. I want to do that.” Adding to the awesomeness was that I only learned about the show because I happened to visit a particular bar (recommended by my hosts) and happen to sit in the one spot at the bar that I could have sat, at the right time, to happen to have a conversation with the woman, Mariko, who happened to be the creator of DRIP!

My plan was to check it out my last night in Orlando. Drip with sweat while running in the morning, and then drip with paint while seeing DRIP in the evening. That afternoon, though, I started dragging. Whether it was the good running-feeling subsiding, the growing thoughts of my pending return to regular life at home, or something else, I started feeling the stress and worry that I had been doing good at managing.

So I took a beat and let myself be.

After getting my Dinky picture, I crossed the street and found a warm spot on the grass near Lake Highland. And then I laid down on my back, resting, breathing, looking up, not looking at anything, now with eyes closed, and I let my thoughts come and go, and along the way came the understanding that I would do whatever felt right and that that would be alright. If a more low-key evening is what was moving me, then that’s what I would do. If DRIP became the stronger part of my compass, I’d move in that direction.

The first sign in favor of DRIP was the beet juice, which I’d gotten in my race goody bag. Beet Performer is 100% beet juice, and well, one sip confirmed for me that it’s not my cup of beet juice tea.

This also explains why I had an open, nearly full can of beet juice in my rental car’s cup-holder, which was fine until I unexpectedly backed into a curb while parking, leading to the beet juice spilling and leaving a large maroon mark on my arm. How about that, I thought, I just painted myself.

Then next came the thrift store, which is what I was parking for. If I went to DRIP, I wanted to get a pair of flip flops, as Mariko had mentioned how most people wear old clothes and sandals that they don’t mind getting paint on. And what would you know: the thrift store had my exact size.

I also got The Muppet Movie (a classic, for my nieces) and some reading for the plane.

The final push to DRIP was a therapy-like conversation I had with a bartender a short while later while eating dinner. The thoughts and talk on my end went something like this: Yes, I want to go, but I have a voice telling me I shouldn’t go because I would be going by myself and would feel like I’d have to talk to new people, and I don’t always feel like doing that, and then I would be self-conscious and not enjoy it, and so on. But I want to go. And, I’d already painted myself and found flip flips! And oh yeah, I met the person who created the show, and this is an opportunity to see it and see something awesome. Tonight. And, I can go and do whatever I want, talk to or not talk to people, and have a good time. I can just go and be.

So that’s what I did.

Once upon a time, I wrote about a Two T-Shirt Day. After entering the DRIP bar area and collecting my t-shirt before the show started, I was treated to a zombie-cutting and sleeves-ripping.

And that, when combined with my half marathon attire and with the rest of my day, perspective seen and perspective shown, turned it into a Two Tank Top Day.

Afterwards, with a few of the performers in front, and with a blond Mariko photo-bomb in back

The show was amazing, and after it was over, I sat with myself for a few minutes in the bar area, continuing to be. Among the thoughts that came were, Yes, I’m okay, I’m doing okay, I’m me, I’m ready, Let’s go home, Let’s go.

What made it special was not that I did it,
but how I did it and what it meant.

Starting at the end, a look at the finisher’s medal

Starting at the beginning, the sunrise around 6:00 a.m., an hour before the start

You could say the journey to my marathon experience Saturday started long ago and includes the entirety of my life, and I would agree with you. Some of the more recent seeds of my goals and plan for the race, though, start with where I was at when I signed up for it earlier in the year. I’d done another marathon last spring, and having not gone quite as fast in that one as I’d hoped for (though that was okay (another story for another time)), I had the thought, I should do it again and go for that Boston qualifying time. If I was honest with myself, though, I knew there was some ambivalence. Did I really want to train that much? Should I really push my body in that way for that long (running for 26.2 miles)? What if I can’t do it? What if I fail?

***

“So how many people here are racing the marathon tomorrow?”

This was one of the first things Coach GP said during the Friday afternoon marathon-expo talk he gave, titled, “Pushing Beyond Presumed Limits,’ which was ostensibly about running mechanics and how to think and what to do when trouble comes during the race. He continued:

“Note that I didn’t say, How many people are running the marathon tomorrow. It’s a race. You all have a bib number. There’s a clock timing you. No matter what you tell yourself to take the pressure off, once you get started you’re in the game and competing. You’re an assassin…You have a goal time and you’re going for it.”

I immediately felt like I was in the wrong place. What I was hearing is what had historically been my mindset, but I’d already been thinking of a different plan for this race. I knew my training hadn’t been as good as last year and that I wouldn’t be able to get the aspired-for Boston qualifying time. I’d also been missing some sleep and ruminating on life recently following the ending of a short but impactful bit of dating, and I really just wanted to go for a run and enjoy it – to say, I’m just going for a long fun run. And to not feel like I needed to push for x or y time – to not have that as my focus – and also to not have my legs feel terrible afterwards.

My marathon bag around 6:25 a.m., posing just prior to gear check. One more pit-stop, and then ready to go.

***

The race started on time at 7:00 a.m., and it wasn’t long before the old mindset, still there just a little below the surface, worked its way up. Earlier, I’d told myself that a 7:30/mile pace (3:16:38 overall) would be a good target given my fitness and one that I could maybe glide along and enjoy things at. But the course was going to be flat! And now the 3:15 pace guy was right in front of me and planning to lead people to a 3:14:30 finish…which was halfway further to 3:13…which, who knows, maybe I could do if I felt great…and, shouldn’t I give it a shot to hit 3:13 if it was maybe possible?…and, 3:13!…which would be a great time and PR (even if not the 3:10 needed for Boston) and a great palindrome!

My legs were feeling good for a while, and I was keeping up with the 3:15 group, but I knew I wasn’t relaxed. My thinking and focus were just, I need to stay with this group. It wasn’t until going through Meadowbrook Park, between mile 8 and 9, that my mind returned to me. This isn’t what I want, I told myself. And I won’t be able to keep this up anyway. Chasing a time is not my race today. My race is to enjoy it, to make it to the end still smiling and happy to be alive. To appreciate it.

At the turn at Mile 11. Thank you Aaron and Jami and Mom for watching and cheering.

So I slowed down a little. And I started to relax. And began to really smile. I was running by myself now (amidst the others around me), and now finally running for myself.

It was a shift in mentality and remarkable because it wasn’t just about running, but life too. In a culture of feeling the need to please other people and meet their expectations and fit in, sometimes you have to stop and ask yourself, What do you want and need for you? And then be true to yourself and do that, rather than doing what you think others think you need or should want.

I was listening to myself, and in that sweet spot of comfortableness and just running, came things like joy, gratitude, and connection. As I started the backstretch and moved through miles 13-20, I was smiling.

A few times I looked up with open arms and thought, I love my life.

The University of Illinois Alma Mater sculpture (1929), the Alma Mater (center) welcoming the world along with Labor (left) and Learning (right)

One of my grandfather’s paintings (1930). Its story isn’t known (still to be tracked down), but I like to see the gesture as one of welcoming life and whatever comes.

People, families, and volunteers watching the race were cheering and encouraging me and everyone on, and when I would meet their cheers with a smile or other acknowledgment, they would go further and give me a little more. Which then made me appreciate them and smile even more myself.

It’s true you get back what you put in and that we’re all connected. If you want love, part of it is you have to be open and willing to give some yourself.

Looking good, right after getting a bottle of Gatorade from my brother at mile 18. Thank you also Jami for getting that on digital film.

The final 10K went by for me with a mindset similar to the one I carried from 13 to 20. I could feel myself moving a tad slower, and around mile 23 or 34, I did have the thought, ‘It really doesn’t have to be this long,’ but really I was still feeling pretty good, smiling, and appreciating the spectator love. Keeping up with the water, Gatorade, and some GU helped too. Further on the topic of spectator love and encouragement, and creativity, the following were my top 3 favorite signs that people made, each of them also only appearing during the last 10K:

Keep going! You’re almost there!!!
[then followed by a second sign saying:]
That’s what she said!

And

Give 100% in everything you do!
[then followed by a second sign saying:]
Except when donating blood!

And

Stop being tired,
and start being awesome!

In the end, my final time was a few minutes faster than my first marathon and a few minutes slower than the one last year, but it wasn’t about the time as much as being right where I wanted to be. I continued to push beyond the presumed limits of my older ways of thinking and seeing, and I felt genuine appreciation and gratitude for the day. I appreciated seeing my family at miles 4, 11, 18, and 26.2, feeling and engaging the support of the crowd and volunteers, and even Coach GP for getting me thinking and providing some words and ideas for me to remake and claim for myself. All in all it was a great run.

A view at the finish. If you look closely, you can see me.

The finisher’s medal, further proof of the above

And the medal zoomed in, back again with the Alma Mater and Labor and Learning

I made some good lentil soup for dinner tonight, but the highlight of my day was going for a bike ride with my friend Bob.

Vintage picture of my bike

We took some familiar roads and made our way from HoVal to Sergeantsville and back, catching up and sharing wisdom and understanding on things like relationships and life.

We were happy to be outside riding, and our halfway point 20 miles in was also familiar.

The Sergeantsville General Store, a deli which also makes very good and reasonably-priced Chinese food

Sometimes if I’m on a long ride and I need a little more food, I’ll get the $5 meal with dumplings, rice, and salad. (If you haven’t tried it, you should.) Today, I went with the more standard fresh scone and Gatorade.

Can’t think of a better way to spend $3.47 on a Sunday morning

After repositioning the scone into my stomach, I took a few pictures of some flowers nearby and thought this blog and appreciation.

Daffodils

Pink flowers

Painted flowers

It was definitely a day for daffodils on the side of the road, which Bob and I noted, and in fact, the first pictures I took today were of some yellow daffodils at my place before leaving. I took them with the idea of including them on another (more photo-centric) blog that I was thinking of starting under the heading and theme of, See the beauty every day.

Another friend, though he didn’t remember having had said it (perhaps it came naturally to him), had said these appreciative words one day a few years ago when glancing at an architectural feature on the side of an urban building – something he was seeing and I wasn’t – and the words lodged in me as something to come back to and remember whenever perspective is wanting or wanted. Among other thoughts today, I did think of See the beauty every day, and the sentiment was present on seeing the daffodils in the morning and then seeing much more of them and other flowers later on.

Some yellow daffodils

A daffodil close up

And some more

According to Bob’s Garmin, when we finished the ride, we had done 2,681 ft of climbing, burned 2,662 calories, and covered 43 miles in 3 hours. It was a good ride.